


All That Matters

by AirgiodSLV



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-06
Updated: 2003-07-06
Packaged: 2019-07-20 08:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16133933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AirgiodSLV/pseuds/AirgiodSLV
Summary: “No wonder there are rumours about the two of us.”





	All That Matters

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written as an antidote to _Stay (I thought you wanted me to)_ and is for Cyndi, who asked after it.

Viggo looks up in mild surprise as a green-clad form invades his cramped haven, squeezing as close to the tree trunk as possible and burrowing into Viggo’s side. Orlando is shivering, drops of rain beading on the tip of his nose, his cheeks, the thick strands of his wig. Viggo raises an arm indulgently, allows Orlando to share his warmth and his spot beneath the sheltering branches of the tree.

“It’s bloody freezing,” Orlando comments reproachfully, teeth clenched to keep them from chattering.

“Well, it is raining,” Viggo points out, brushing his fingers over Orlando’s tense jawline to catch the water there. Without thinking about it, he brings his hand to his mouth and licks his fingertips, wanting to know what the rain tastes like.

Orlando watches him, eyes wide with shock. “Did you just…?” He stops, shakes his head. “No wonder there are rumours about the two of us.”

“Are there?” Viggo asks, not really interested. He’s heard most of them already.

“Yes.” Orlando shifts a little, restless, and Viggo allows him to squirm for a moment before tightening his arm slightly around Orlando’s shoulder. Orlando gets the hint and settles down, still twitching a bit. Viggo goes back to studying his battered script, only vaguely aware of Orlando beside him as a mass of damp warmth and slow breathing.

“Does it bother you?” Orlando asks suddenly, and Viggo blinks as he transitions back from Middle-earth to a rainy New Zealand afternoon.

“Not really,” he answers truthfully. Gossip is as much a part of this business as acting. He’s used to it. Orlando bites his lip and stares out into the rain pensively. “It bothers you,” Viggo guesses, careful to keep his voice neutral. Orlando gets skittish sometimes, and Viggo doesn’t want this to be one of those moments.

“Not…well, sometimes.” Artificial blue eyes dart to him, apologetic. “I just…I guess I’m sensitive about the way people see me, you know?” Viggo just nods, letting Orlando get out whatever it is that he needs to say. “It’s just…I mean, the thing is…” False start; he stops and blows out a breath. “Why does everyone think I’m weak?”

Viggo blinks, tries to think of a suitable response and fails miserably. “What?”

“’Lij says…well, I mean we didn’t really talk about it, but…” Impatient headshake. “My life is not full of pain and suffering!”

Viggo tries again to come up with something to say, but this time Orlando is ahead of him.

“I don’t do drugs, I don’t have any mysterious diseases, I’m not starving myself…”

“Definitely not,” Viggo agrees solemnly, and winces as Orlando’s foot catches him in the shin.

“I don’t drink…too much,” he amends at Viggo’s raised eyebrows. “And I’m not even into rough sex!”

“I’m relieved to hear it,” Viggo says seriously, and this time he evades the kick by digging his fingertips into Orlando’s ribs, which makes the younger man freeze and clench until Viggo relieves the pressure and removes the threat.

“Seriously, if it bothers you that much…” Viggo begins, but Orlando shakes his head.

“Nah, it’s not a big deal. I just needed to get that out, I guess. I just don’t understand why people see me that way.” He falls silent, picking at a bow-callus while Viggo’s hand rubs the back of his neck, soothing the tension.

“People need to see flaws,” Viggo says after a moment of contemplation. “They need to know that there are human failings beneath the seemingly perfect exterior; inner fragility. The vulnerability is more attractive if it’s hidden beneath layers of protection, something to crack open and discover.” He realizes that he’s rambling and ceases speaking.

Orlando is eyeing him somewhat warily. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Viggo laughs. “How am I supposed to know? I’m just a poet.” He allows himself a tiny smile, reaches out to brush his fingers down Orlando’s smooth cheek. “It doesn’t matter. How they see you, what they say. They can’t touch you.”

They sit in silence for a while, listening to the rain fall and watching unfortunate actors and crew members scurry through the downpour, Orlando’s head resting on Viggo’s shoulder as they breathe together. Viggo catches sight of a familiar figure making a dash for the sanctuary of the catering tent, and smiles to himself.

“So how’s Dom?” he asks, and feels the answer as Orlando smiles against him.

“Good,” Orlando replies, chuckles softly. “It’s good.”

“I’m glad,” Viggo says, sincerely, and places a platonic kiss on the top of Orlando’s golden head. “That’s really all that matters.”


End file.
